


The Two Cycles of Revenge

by HappyLeech



Series: The Killerverse [4]
Category: Silent Hill, Silent Hill (Video Game Series)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Serial Killers, Gen, Killerverse, Serial Killers, Violence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-05-12
Updated: 2014-05-12
Packaged: 2018-01-24 11:11:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,068
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1603067
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HappyLeech/pseuds/HappyLeech
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>1.) The Orphaned Child<br/>2.) The Vengeful Widow</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Two Cycles of Revenge

When you were small, when he was still daddy and not dad, he came home one day covered in blood. Even when you were 6, you knew it was blood, not the spilt ketchup that he tried to pass it off as, and you go over to him, worried. 

“Daddy, what happened? Is someone hurt?” you asked, and watched him flinch and look away.

“Yes, Pumpkin, someone’s been hurt. But they were a bad bad person, so it’s okay. You just have to remember not to tell anyone about the bad bad person, okay?” he said, and you nodded and gave him a gap-toothed grin.

“Okay Daddy!”

(You moved away, 2 months later)

You never did find out who that bad bad person was, but when you’re 11 you see your dad, not daddy, dragging someone into the garage. 

“Dad?” you ask, hesitant from where you are standing, half behind the door. “Dad, what’s going on?”

He flinches and looks away, before beckoning to you, calling you out from your hiding spot, and you go over to him.

“This is a bad bad person, Pumpkin. A horrible horrible person, and I’m going to write about them one day. Does this scare you?” he asks you, and you shake your head. You think it’s a little weird, but also a little cool.

“Dad, can I help you? With the bad bad people?” you ask shyly, and he’s a little startled, before beckoning you even closer.

(You have to throw away your clothing once you were done)

He never publishes that story, at the family’s request that he not novelize their pain, but you read it often, with the slick detective who ends up falling for the killer’s trap, who ends up bleeding out on a park bench as the killer runs away.

When you’re 14, a man breaks into your apartment, and nearly kills your dad. The police decide that the murdered man, because your father was attacked in the kitchen, with all those nice new knives, was a perpetrator of one of the murders he wrote about, angry that he wasn’t getting the attention.

You stay there for as long as you can stand, before leaving the state.

(You classmates just didn’t understand what happened)

When you’re 17, you tally up the number of bad bad people that he has taken down, and are a little startled. 35? It doesn’t feel like 35 people were out there in the world, rotting under floorboards, buried in neighbor’s basements, dropped in lakes, but as you recounted, you had to admit that it was such a small number.

(You were sure the number was in the hundreds)

(Your combo count is only 3, to your disappointment)

Then, one day, you’re sent to the mall. Just for a copy of his new book, but you decide to make the day of it, wandering with the few friends you’ve made. They have to leave soon after arriving though, and you go get a calorie loaded Happy Burger meal, before falling asleep at the table. 

What a mistake. 

You wake up with an aching head, blurry eyes, the dream fresh in your mind, and a man watching you.

He tells you that he is a private detective, and you freeze. Have you been found out? Does he know what you’ve done to teachers and students and bullies and unappealing potential boyfriends? Does he know about your father?

Then he tells you that he’s here to talk about your birth, and the tension eases. He’s no threat, but he keeps following you, insisting that you need to talk. So you hide in the bathroom, escaping through the tiny window. 

Of course it’s not that simple.

The way is blocked, the mall is empty, and there’s some…lady, who rants at you about blood and paradise, and that’s when everything goes screwy.

(You just want to go home, you wish you’d come and grabbed the book and left right away)

Something is bugging your head, and you can’t help but kneel down and close your eyes in a futile attempt to ease the pain, but when you open them again, everything is wrong. There are things, these monsters everywhere, and it’s only through luck that you find a weapon.

Running through the mall, killing the things that come lumbering after you, killing the dogs, killing the…the monsters is so much more different from killing a person. A person puts up a fight, you come up behind them and take them out, but they still fight and scramble and scratch for your face. But with these monsters…well, they’re coming after you, and now it’s you doing the scrambling for your life.

Eventually you get out of the mall, and then you run into that detective again. He asks you what’s going on, and even thought you act cold and accusing, as you head for the subway, you can’t help but think that everything that just happened was all because of you

(It’s all your fault)

Of course, the subway is the same as the mall, and you end up detouring through part of the sewers (ew) and an office building. There you meet another man, some guy named Vincent. He denies having anything to do with that other woman, but you know he’s lying. The way he talks, the way he looks…they’re connected, and you can’t trust him.

(You and dad would have killed him together, in any other circumstance)

When you manage to get out of the office building, you’re startled to see how close you are to home. You creep along the empty streets, frowning at the barricade erected that’s preventing you from entering the building from the front. You enter through the back, and hope that the old lady who yells at the garbage men is asleep.

“Dad? I’m home…Listen, something crazy is going on…”

It takes you a minute to realize that something’s wrong. He hasn’t said hello, or turned to face you in his chair. 

It takes you a minute to fall to your knees, tears in your eyes, screams stopping themselves from exiting your mouth as you stare at the gaping, ragged wound, at the blood that is dripping from the chair skirt.

It takes you a minute to locate his murderer.

It was that weird woman from before, Claudia, and she had the gall to tell you that it wasn’t her who murdered him, but her pet monster.

(Giving an order doesn’t make you innocent, and you know that well)

You take the thing out as fast as possible, shooting it with a vengeance as it flails at you ineffectually. You run downstairs as it falls, but slow when you hear someone muttering. For a moment, you think that maybe he’s not dead, just hurt, but no. It’s only the detective…

He told you before that his name was Douglas, and it’s only now that you really care. You’re short, snippy with him, but still he stays, and helps you move the body. You both stand there, looking down at him, at the blood that still leaks into the thin sheet and you’re sure into the mattress. 

When you tell Douglas that you’re going after her, going to Silent Hill, he only nods and goes to prep his car.

“That’s a bad bad person, Daddy.” You say softly, using that word, using ‘Daddy’ for the first time in years. “She’s a bad bad person for hurting you, and I’m going to hurt her now. Do you think anyone is going to write about her, Daddy?”

But he doesn’t reply, will never ever reply again, and you can barely stop yourself from sobbing before you have to turn and leave the room. Dad never really said anything against tears, but… 

(You’re not going to cry again until you have that bitch dead)

As you creep outside, Douglas is there, and he hands you two things: A bloodstained notebook and a map of Silent Hill.

“What’s this?” You ask, clutching both close. You know where that notebook came from.

“Some guy named ‘Vincent’ gave me the map, said we should look into someone named Leonard for information once we get into Silent Hill. And…Your father had the notebook with him. I think he’d want you to read it.” Douglas says, and you wonder if he looked inside, if he’d read the last words that your father had ever written. 

(Written for you)

Douglas doesn’t try to talk to you as you read, as you learn about yourself, about the little girls who were you once. Finally, you close the notebook, and lean back into your seat.  
“You should take a nap…you’ve had a heavy day.” Douglas says out of the blue, and you side-eye him. 

“…No thanks. I don’t think I could sleep right now, if I tried.” You reply, fingering the corners of the notebook. 

Then you tell him the quick and dirty version of what your father wrote. About the girls who became you, about the strange and terrible town.

(You leave out the manuscripts he’d hid, the bodies he’d secluded away.)

As you fall back into silence, you stare out the window and count road signs until you see “Welcome to Silent Hill! Please enjoy your stay” flash past. You curl up around your book as Douglas drives into town, as he pulls in and parks in a space at the tiny motel.

As Douglas tries to get all of his things in order, you sit on the musty motel bed, your father’s writings stashed safely away. 

“I’m not a child, you know.” You say with a frown, and Douglas apologizes, before slipping out of the room, leaving you to your thoughts. 

(It was a lie. You’re terrified. Your father isn’t here anymore to save you.)

Slowly, you pull yourself from the bed, and creep out into the fog. You have no idea where Douglas is headed, but you’re going to the…uhg…hospital. 

You try to put it off, you wander and chase after the monsters until they don’t scare you anymore, not quite taking the same joy as you’d get when you helped him with a person, but still enjoying yourself as you slam and smash and crack bones and break skin.

Finally though, you have no choice and you crack open the doors and step inside. Something’s always creeped you out about hospitals, and the nurses that chase you, who shoot you, make it worse. Not to mention those creepy dolls… the love-struck diaries of a man you have no urge to meet…

Finally, you find yourself in this room, and the phone rings. You look at the old receiver, look around the tiny room, and answer.

“Hello…?”

And then that’s when everything goes to shit. Again.

By the time you find yourself in the room that should not exist, the room that is not on any map, the room whose door just…appeared, you’re bleeding and paranoid. 

(Who WAS that on the phone? You know it’s not your birthday…)

You empty the blood on the altar, and blink away tears of pain to see a ladder down to…nothing. You climb down, dreading what you’ll find. After all, last time there was that…lizard…thing.

And this time? Another lizard thing, but this one talks like a man, the man who called you Claudia and wouldn’t believe you at first. He talks to you, but you’re barely listening. You’re here for some seal, not to listen to someone in the darkness ramble. 

“You plan to destroy god?!” he screams at you eventually, and you almost cry from frustration. Is everyone you meet going to be some kind of religious nut job?

You clobber him over the head one last time, and as he finally sinks into the water, thrashing subsiding, you’re hit again with that terrible pain, which sends you reeling, to your knees. Barely holding your head above the putrid water, your eyes roll back, and you land on your back, hitting your head on the dirty tile floor.

There’s a seal on the floor, a round thing, and you almost kick it away and out of reach as you turn to go. You pocket it, and bolt. You’ve had enough of hospitals for the rest of your life.

“You have the seal? That’s great!” Vincent is there, weird, twitchy Vincent instead of solid, sane Douglas, and your fingers twitch for your pocket knife. A few jabs and that’s that, you’d be laying him out on the floor of the motel, but instead you steel yourself and listen to him.

“Was there someone else here?” you interrupt, and he gives you the look. You’ve seen it on your father’s face before, and on teachers and friends. You know he’s lying.

“…Why don’t you go to the amusement park?” he says instead, and you get the sinking feeling that it’s going to be the same one from your dream, where you died.

The minute you enter the park, you feel that pressure again, and you dig your fingers into your head as you sink to the ground. 

(If anything attacked, anything at all, you know you’d be dead in an instant.)

(The pain is getting worse)

Finally, you pull yourself up and start to walk. It’s exactly like your dream…although this time you remember to turn off the rollercoaster. Not that it really helps, beyond giving you a few seconds extra to jump off the ride and onto a hot dog cart.

“This place is insane…” you mutter to yourself as you navigate the rides and attractions, the monsters more a hindrance than horrors now.

Then you find Douglas, tough detective Douglas, sprawled out on the ground, gun in hand and leg shattered.

(You can tell, you’ve seen what he did to some of those people)

“Maybe…Maybe if I kill you, then this would all stop,” he says, and you can feel the bead of the gun at your back. You get the feeling that if he shot, he wouldn’t miss, and freeze.

“Yeah…maybe,” you reply, and you can feel him hesitate. You move. 

He doesn’t shoot.

You find his diary, but don’t bother to return it to him. With his leg like that…He only has so many bullets and those things seem to be attracted to the smell of blood.

It’s at the merry-go-round that you realize why your head hurts so much, why you feel the pain, the urge to collapse and let the agony consume you, to die. 

There’s a girl there, a knife and gun in either hand, and she looks just like you. She even fights like you, and, in the end when you finally, bloody and bruised and close to unwanted tears, manage to kill her, she dies like you. There’s a whine in her throat, the same one you hear when that pain starts, and then she’s gone.

The amusement park is to, and instead you find Claudia, god damned fucking bitch Claudia, and you understand now why she calls for you. You don’t agree, you know that Alessa would have never agreed, would have killed her friend first to stop this, tried to kill you to stop this.

There’s footsteps and sobbing and a room that looks like the one you left your father in…but he’s gone if he was ever there. Fatty tissue monsters that ram you and send you flying contend with the things that killed your father, and finally you’re at the end, at the door to the chapel, hand to a dry and ill throat.

(That woman sounded so pitiful that you forgave her, hoping silently that she’d get out of this place)

Vincent’s on the ground, and you make a distressed noise in your throat. Claudia must mistake it for horror and sadness, because she laughs it off, the dagger hanging loosely in her hand. You look at his body, upset at the loss of the person you were planning to take as your first solo kill, before your body starts to convulse.

You fumble, fingers feeling thick and numb, with your pendant and somehow manage to not drop the tiny bead that was nestled inside as you bring it to your mouth. Claudia is aghast at this, demands to know what you did as you drop the seal you were clutching close to the ground, as you feel blood and puss ooze from long gone burns and crusted scars, and then it’s gone. 

Retching, gasping for breath, your reach up and pull it from your mouth, throat, watching it as it almost oozes from your body to fall to the ground. It’s horrifying, and you stumble back, wiping blood and fluids of unknown origin from your mouth and fingers. You proclaim her god dead, ready to smear it on the ground, to crush the organs and translucent spine into spotted mush, when she darts forwards, pushes you back.

Consumes it.

You watch, horrified, as burns she never had to bare and scars she never deserved cover her body, as the agony you almost earned courses through her, blood begins to seep and she laughs and then-

It grabs her, that thing, pulls her down into nothing, and you aim a frustrated and enraged kick at the body on the ground. She never received those burns, never felt the true pain. How dare she take what was yours?

You jump down into nothing, following after, and she’s already dead, the bitch.

“No…NO! I was supposed to kill her!” you scream at the disturbing mask, the faux god brought about by a woman who never had to listen to it, whispering to her secrets and promises and threats and the truth of the paradise they so wanted. That gives you enough to fight back, shooting the gun into the sleeping, serene face, slicing at the weakened and brittle bones.

Then,

Then,

Then,

“Heather, what happened? Is it over?"

“Heather? What’s wron-“

Then,

Then,

Then,

There’s red poison in your veins, a dull knife in your hands, a dead body on the bench.

That thing, your attendant, awaits your arrival.

God may not be able to be born of your body again, but you will do your best for the town.

A new Priestess is needed, to lead Her children, after all.


End file.
